


Kin Bold and Boyful

by annecoulmanross



Category: The Terror (TV 2018), The Terror - Dan Simmons
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Ereboys Polycule, Everyone (On Erebus) Is Gay, Fred Is Baby, Historical Fred des Voeux, M/M, Maybe the Real Catharsis was the Friends on whose Shoulders We Cried Along the Way, Pining, Platonic Cuddling, This is essentially a Platonic Orgy, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27749425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annecoulmanross/pseuds/annecoulmanross
Summary: Frederick des Voeux, the youngest officer onErebus,is introduced to the brotherhood of the wardroom. For the Terror Bingo prompt “Wardroom Officer.”Historical Note:This is about the historical Freddie, andthus he is baby.
Relationships: Charles Frederick Des Voeux/Edmund Hoar, Commander James Fitzjames/Lt Graham Gore, Commander James Fitzjames/Lt Henry T. D. Le Vesconte, Harry D. S. Goodsir/Lt Graham Gore, Lt Henry T. D. Le Vesconte/Commander James Fitzjames/Lt Graham Gore/Harry D. S. Goodsir
Comments: 10
Kudos: 11





	Kin Bold and Boyful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frederickdesvoeux (doomdxys)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doomdxys/gifts).



> Thank you so much to @[frederickdesvoeux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doomdxys/pseuds/frederickdesvoeux) and @[kaserl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaserl/pseuds/kaserl) for reading this and enduring my exponentially increasing madness!

Fred really had no idea how all of this had happened. Perhaps it was just something about the camaraderie on _Erebus,_ Fred thought. Perhaps it was inevitable. 

_Erebus_ was nothing like any of the ships on which Fred had served before; albeit there hadn’t been very many of those yet (Fred being as young as he was, only just twenty-one this autumn) but _Erebus_ was still so different, so alien. The lieutenants, the young assistant surgeon, the other mate – those with whom Fred spent most of his time – they were all so friendly, a little band of brothers who would pat Fred’s arm at the slightest provocation, would ruffle his curly hair like he was a boy. Even the commander himself always had a friendly smile ready for him, and Captain Sir John’s paternal benevolence was legendary, though Fred saw little enough of him (though, tragically, this meant he also saw very little of the captain’s kindly steward Edmund with the lovely, fleeting smile, whom Fred had hoped, after their time together in China, he might be able to call a friend – or perhaps more, if only he could earn for himself a morsel of Edmund’s time.) But Fred was too entirely wrapped up in the world of the other junior officers, their frenetic energy and wholesome boyish joy. 

Still, none of his past experiences had prepared Fred for the wintery night at the end of their first November when a few drinks with those of the wardroom had turned into a spirited bit of skylarking and then Fred had found himself – along with the usual crew, from the endlessly-friendly young naturalist Harry Goodsir and the bright, bold, and joyful Lieutenant Gore; to the commander’s own best boy, the surprisingly shy Lieutenant Henry-call-me-Dundy with his sudden, swift smiles; and, of all things, the Commander himself, off duty for the night and quite tipsy, draped half-way over his Henry’s shoulder – all of them piling into the nearest spare officer’s cabin. 

An absolute chaos, it seemed to Fred, full of laughter and tickling fingers and the shifting warmth of first one embrace, then another – Dundy sitting at the foot of the bed and pulling Fred into his arms, then Harry Goodsir, in the middle, clasping Fred’s hand and holding him close. All slow and treacly. 

So much touch. Fred hadn’t been touched like this ever before in his life. He felt as though he’d been starved of it and never even realized. He leaned back into Dundy’s strong chest, chasing the sensation of being cradled, comforted; turning himself, he pressed a cheek to Dundy’s sternum. When he did so, Goodsir tucked his face against Fred’s neck and a humming joy ran through Fred’s throat, a gentle trembling – from one or both of them, Fred couldn’t tell which. 

Glancing, overwhelmed, over the top of Harry’s wild curls, Fred glimpsed the Commander, seated at the head of the bunk, with Lieutenant Gore sitting curled between his legs. Fred then watched the Lieutenant press a messy kiss, first to the Commander’s cheek, then to his smiling lips. It passed without acknowledgement, an everyday thing to everyone but Fred, perhaps. 

The casual love and care in the gesture, however, melding with the warmth of the bodies around him, pushed Fred beyond his capacity for composure. To his horror, he felt tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Oh, Freddie, no,” someone said; Fred couldn’t tell who, through his tears.

“I’m sorry,” Fred sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”

“God, what for?” That was Dundy, deep and rumbling against Fred’s back. 

“I– I just.” 

A steady hand came to rest on Fred’s shoulder. “Frederick,” Commander Fitzjames asked, then. “Are you alright? We didn’t offend you, did we?” 

Fred shook his head insistently. “No, sir,” he said, trying to dash his tears away. “I just. Perhaps it was a bit much, is all.” 

“Let the poor boy have his cabin back, Jamie,” Gore said, sounding a little sad. “We should go.”

“No,” Fred insisted firmly, even as he realized that they were, in fact, encamped on his own bunk – but his voice broke on the words. “Lieutenant, I – please stay. All of you. I’m. I liked it.” 

Dundy laughed, softly; Fred would never have known it was laughter but for the fact that he could still feel Dundy pressed to his back. Fred shivered a little, not unhappy, and Harry, seeing it, rubbed a warm hand up and down his arm. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, lad?” Harry asked, protective, as though he weren’t the youngest after Fred. 

Fred nodded, feeling his face heat and his breathing even out. “I um. Just haven’t been close to anyone in a while,” he confessed. “Missed this.” 

“Oh, little one,” the Commander said, shifting around in the over-crowded bunk in order to reach out and take hold of Fred’s hand. “A touch of homesickness, perhaps?”

Shaking his head “no,” Fred closed his eyes and focused on the several gentle hands that held him upright, chaste but tender. 

“Lovesick, then?” The Commander asked.

Fred’s eyes flew open. Commander Fitzjames was entirely calm, a sparkle of something knowing in his dark eyes; Gore, beside him, looked about as surprised as Fred felt. 

“Oh I wouldn’t worry, Graham,” Fitzjames said, knowing his Second’s thoughts without having to look, though he lifted a hand to cup Gore’s cheek before turning back to look over Fred, taking in his reactions, his shock. “I’m rather certain he’s safe.” 

“Who is it, then?” Harry asked, the smile reaching all the way to his eyes. “One of us?”

“We’re all too old for him, bar you, Goodsir,” Dundy cut in, the quiet humor in his voice almost flirtatious, daring Fred to disagree with him. “Has he got a boy waiting for him back home, perhaps?”

Fred hid his face in Dundy’s rumpled shirt, for he had nowhere else to hide. Edmund Hoar’s lovely features swam before his eyes. What if Eddie had been here? Would he have kissed Fred like Graham had kissed his Commander? 

“Or here on _Erebus,_ even.”

Without even thinking of his actions, thinking only of Eddie’s dark eyes and polite smile widening into a grin, Fred nodded, his cheek brushing against the soft linen of Dundy’s fine shirt. 

But when Dundy mused “On _Erebus_ indeed, hmm?” and his chest shifted under Fred’s nose, Fred felt a rush of panic. 

“No, I meant–” Fred began, before many hands soothed him. 

“It’s alright,” Commander Fitzjames said, calm as ever. “It’s all alright – you’re among friends.”

Perhaps it was inevitable that Fred’s bottled-up emotions would eventually explode within him. Perhaps it would have happened no matter what, but the Commander’s kind words, and Dundy’s warmth, and Harry’s attentive eyes, and Graham’s softening gaze and appearance of growing sympathy as he and Harry twined their fingers – all of that certainly encouraged Fred’s confession. 

Before he could stop himself, Fred was pouring out how he’d longed for an embrace from Edmund, how he missed the closeness they’d had in China. In the cramped bunk, there was only a soft sort of silence as Fred explained, rambling on until he cried from frustration and those new tears dried on his cheeks. 

Eventually, his words ran out, and Fred tipped forward until he was leaning loosely against Harry’s shoulder. He breathed, heavy, in and out. 

“Oh, poor boy,” Commander Fitzjames said, and then made up for the damnable pity in his voice by running his long fingers through Fred’s curls until Fred was almost purring. “Mr. Hoar’s a lovely young man.”

Fred nodded against Harry’s collar. 

Dundy, rubbing gentle circles into the tension that lay upon Fred’s shoulders, added, “Don’t you think our good Mr. Bridgens would be willing to help, Jas? We could make our own beds for a few days so to spare Bridgens the time to take on a few of Mr. Hoar’s duties, give Freddie a moment with his sweetheart.” 

Fred blushed and mumbled a weak protestation that was promptly ignored. 

“Plans for tomorrow,” Graham said softly, as Fred was somehow shifted into the space that Harry had occupied at the center of the bed, and Commander Fitzjames’s hands rose up to steady him. “Tonight, a little comfort, hmm?” 

“You’ve needed a friendly cuddle, haven’t you?” Commander Fitzjames said as he settled Fred beside him, tucked against Graham’s side and the wall. Fred felt suddenly exhausted, but it was a good, clean tiredness, as though all his worries had been cried out. Graham’s gentle hands pulled Fred a bit closer, to rest against his chest, and Fred felt a soft kiss gracing his temple. 

“There now,” someone said; Fred couldn’t tell who. Someone was curling warm fingers around his ankle, soothing; Dundy perhaps. 

“We’re here for you – you’re not alone,” Harry Goodsir whispered, curled against Fred’s hip, with his head resting in Graham’s lap as Graham stroked his cheek. “You don’t need to be alone ever again.” Graham nodded at this, the affirming movement of his head the last thing Fred felt as he drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Source notes:** The title of this fic comes from Hozier's "Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene," which was used also for a beautiful terror-gifset that I now can't find, but which was very lovely indeed – this phrase fits the rowdy Erebus boys so very very well.


End file.
